Thousand Yard Bride (19 page)

With us both.

I
t felt so
good walking off the field after the game at the Knights’ stadium. When I stepped out of the cool California air into the steamy locker room, I walked into the thunderous applause of my teammates.

I pointed at Reese who was leaning against the lockers smiling and said, “Hey. It’s all that guy there, I just catch the damn thing.”

“No way,” Reese said. “It’s all you, brother. You have hands like a gecko. I have no idea how you pulled that last pass out of the air.”

Jam, who was still in mid-victory dance, interjected, “Must be newlywed luck. Did you have the missus blow on your hands for good luck before the game?”

“I bet that’s not all she blew!” Benny snorted.

Some of the guys laughed, but I ignored the comment. I wasn't going to let him bait me and ruin this win for me or the rest of the guys. “Let’s just be happy with our performance, okay?”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t happy, man,” Benny said, looking down sullenly at his feet as he unlaced his cleats.

“That’s right,” Jam said. “We could all learn a lot from our boy Hunter. He went from meaningless sex—” The locker room cheered.

Reese picked up where Jam left off. “To landing a stunning woman. He’s lucky. She’s a keeper."

Benny rolled his eyes, mumbling, “For now,” under his breath before slamming his locker shut and wandering toward the showers.

I took a deep breath and let it go. I didn’t need some stupid locker room brawl splashed all over the news. And the truth was, Jo was a calming influence. I’d been getting a little better at controlling my rage. A little.

Reese slugged down a Croc-Cooler and said, “I might settle down soon, too. I’m getting too old for my current tricks.”

“As long as you’re not too old for the game, QB,” Jam chuckled.

Reese laughed so hard he spit out his drink. “I’ll be throwing touchdowns when we land a man on motherfucking Mars.”

We all razzed each other a little more, and at the end of the day I left the stadium feeling like a winner. After all—tomorrow I'd see Jo.

* * *

W
hen we got
to the airport my father was waiting for me. I thought he would have taken the jet back to New Haven right after the game.

"What are you doing here?" I asked suspiciously.

“You’re riding back with me,” he said. “We need to talk.”

Dread washed over me. I always enjoyed the plane rides home with my teammates after an away game. After a win, the guys and I always had the best time unwinding and rehashing the plays.

I was wondering why my father thought that this was a good time to deprive me of some much-needed morale boosting to catch up on whatever it was he wanted to catch up on, but I didn't have to wonder too long.

As we walked down the tarmac to the family jet, my father said, “We haven’t spoken much since the wedding.” I felt like correcting him. We hadn’t
actually
exchanged
any
words at my wedding a week ago. I’d avoided him the entire night. My father continued, “I wanted to check in with you and make sure that you and Miss Cooke are handling the arrangement satisfactorily.”

“
Mrs.
Daniels,” I corrected him.

My dad gave me a blank look. “Yes, very good. I read that she’s moving into your penthouse. Was that her idea? Did she suggest it would be necessary for keeping up appearances? I suppose it's logical. However, she hasn't insisted that you add her to the deed, correct? You know we helped you purchase that property. It’ll stay in the family. Our family.”

I wanted to tell him that I could afford to purchase my penthouse ten times over, and that if Jo ended up wanting the condo for herself then she could have it. I couldn't believe that I’d thought he was being helpful when he offered to help me buy it a few years ago. I should have known it would end up being just another way for him to control me. Nothing he ever did was out of kindness. He always had an angle.

Everything had a price tag with him.

“If you’re worried about the condo, you can take it back,” I said. “Jo and I can find another place.”

“Well, Junior, that’s not what I was implying. I'll be blunt. You aren’t going to give her access to your money, are you? The pre-nup covers you legally, but you still have to be careful of emotional manipulation in situations like this,” he said as we boarded the plane. I wanted to sit as far away from him as possible but I knew I had to take the seat across from him. My father summoned the flight attendant. “Double whiskey,” he said. “Junior?”

“Just a seltzer,” I muttered.

“Order a real drink, boy. You have the rest of the day off.”

Ignoring him, I told the flight attendant, “Just the water. Thanks.”

He glared at me silently until she brought the drinks. Then he held up his and toasted, “To the Hawks' legacy.”

I forced a smile and clinked my bottle against his glass. I was grateful he kept quiet as the plane took off, but once we reached our cruising altitude he turned toward me again with that shit-eating grin on his face. “Back to the matter of Joanne. I want to be sure that you two aren’t mixing business with pleasure, Hunter. That’s where you’ll get yourself caught up in some trouble.”

“What? Are you asking me if I’m sleeping with Jo?” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. My dad, of all people, was the last person on earth who should be giving me advice about not thinking with my dick.

“I’m just saying.” Dad shrugged and took a long drink from his glass. “We wouldn’t want Jo to get the wrong idea about this arrangement.”

“It’s really none of your business,” I said crisply.

He bristled before sitting up straight in his chair. “Funny word. ‘Business.’ You play for the Hawks. I own the Hawks. Everything you do
is
my business. Remember how you met Joanne in the first place?”

“Oh, I remember,” I said. “You introduced me to her. This was all your idea.”

“You really will never learn how to take responsibility for your actions, will you, son? Are you saying that I’m at fault for you getting her pregnant? That it’s my fault you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants?”

I laughed. I couldn't even acknowledge my father’s question. “Look. Regardless of what you think about me or Jo, I'm doing the best I can now. She’s been really great about the entire thing. What do you have against her?”

“I don’t trust her, Hunter. You shouldn't either. This is the last time I hire a woman to do a man’s job.”

Seething, I spilled some of my water as I leaned his way quickly. “She’s great at her job. You don’t know her at all, Dad.”

“Maybe not. But do you really think
you
know her?”

I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and talking to my dad would get me about as far as talking to a brick wall. I put in my earbuds, cranked up my music, and stayed silent the entire way home.

I didn't even tell my father goodbye after I raced off the jet. The only person I wanted to see was Jo. I wasn't worried about her getting under my skin. I liked her there.

I unlocked the door, noting immediately that my place smelled different. Like coconuts. I couldn’t figure out why until I saw Jo emerge from my guest bedroom wearing nothing but one of my royal blue towels tucked around her curvy body, hairbrush in her hand.

“Hunter?” she said, smiling, her wet hair draped over her shoulders. “I didn’t think you landed until later.”

There were a few things I wanted to say. I'd known that ahead of time. Things like
Hello,
and
How are you? How's the baby?

Curling my body around hers, I forced the towel down—left it by her ankles. She started to say my name, I kissed the sound away and kept going. Her belly was round enough that it bumped me when we embraced. I loved it.

Jo didn't need to speak. Her hands crept over my chest, feeling my tattoos and showing off her own version of sign language. Easing her to the floor, I set her on her side and spooned her from behind.

"Hunter." The way she said my name was like a wish made in private.

Reaching around, I thumbed one of her hard nipples. Her skin was soft under my palm. Jo gasped, leaning her ass into my thickening shaft. "Did you miss me?" I whispered on the back of her ear.

Again, she backed her perfectly big ass into me. I saw stars. "Of course."

Thrilling, I kissed her neck, creating goosebumps along her arms. "Spread your legs," I told her. Jo lifted one, giving me easy access to the gap of her thighs. Nestling against her, I held her belly. My other hand worked my pants off, fishing out my rigid cock.

Licking my hand, I stroked her pussy lightly. She was dripping quickly, not lying that she'd missed me. Gripping my dick at the base, I guided myself into her carefully. This position would work best for us both—honestly, anything would have worked for me.

"Is this what you missed?" I asked, sliding just the tip of my cock-head inside of her.

Her groan was raw and deep—just how I liked to fuck. "Yes—Hunter, just . . . fuck, go inside, fuck me. Please."

I was going to ask her to beg. She'd beaten me to it. My eyes fluttered with a wave of ecstasy. Inch by inch, I slid into her pussy. My thumb played with her clit the whole time, deliberately keeping my pace slow.

Jo pushed back on me; I grabbed her upper thigh, spreading her wider, exposing her so I could drill my full length into her at my own pace. As she started squeezing me, I rubbed her clit faster; harder. I knew her body. She gave away her secrets to me long ago.

The tiny way she gasped, her shoulders locking, said she was close to coming. I slowed down, enjoying her frustrated whine. "I love that sound," I admitted.

Taking a full breath, she wiggled on me. "Fuck me now, make me come. I need to come."

"I know," I chuckled. I was light headed—lost in the moment. This woman was full with my baby, that knowledge drove me insane. She was mine, she'd always be mine.

Thumbing her clit, I stroked into her again. Jo shivered against me, her skin going chilly as all the heat went between her thighs. She came hard, convulsing, making me cradle her belly as she lost control.

I was right behind her, firing inside so that it was nearly simultaneous.

Yes. I'd missed being home.

After a moment, she flipped on her back and chuckled. "You never answered me earlier. How did you get home so fast?"

“I took my folks’ jet. Riding with my father was awful, but I’m happy it got me here so quick." To make my point, I rolled on my side and traced a finger down her sternum and over her round belly. She shuddered beneath my touch. "Are you all moved in?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you so much for the office. I love it . . . and the printer, of course.”

I let out a chuckle. “Most people are more interested in the high ceilings, but I'm happy you like it.”

“I do. Thanks, Hunter. It was really thoughtful.”

“Is the guest bedroom all right? Do you have everything you need?” I could have sworn that she was checking me out, her eyes looking me up and down like she wanted to go for round two.

“It’s great. I moved some stuff around though, is that okay? I’ll show you,” she said, getting carefully to her feet. She wrapped herself in the towel, still dripping water from her hair as I followed her down the hall.

My dad was right. Jo was getting to me, but I liked it. I liked the way I felt around her. All I wanted to do was fuck her and protect her and support her all at the same time.

I saw that Jo had moved a dresser and said, “You didn't do that yourself did you? You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like that, Jo.”

She flashed a big smile at me while shaking her head. “Lanie did it with her gigantically impressive rock climbing arms. I only directed from afar.”

I was relieved. Jo didn’t like having to slow down, but I didn't like worrying about her. "Just be careful. If something happened to you while I wasn't here . . ."

She whirled on me, putting her hand over my mouth. "Tsk. Bad luck. I'll be fine."

Dropping my arms around her waist, I asked, “Is this too uncomfortable for you, Jo? Having to live here? Do you miss your place?”

She half-shrugged. “It’s a little weird, I guess, but this condo is amazing. It’s like moving into a castle. Who could complain about that?”

I nodded. “Great. Just make yourself at home. I mean that. Like, if you were at your apartment, what would you be doing right now?”

“Honestly, I’d probably be on the couch watching guilty pleasure reality TV with a bowl of super salty popcorn."

“Then let’s do that,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the living room. She grabbed her towel with the other so it didn't fall down.

“Well, I need to put on some clothes first,” she said.

“If you absolutely have to,” I chuckled.

“I do,” she said, backing up, heading into her room to get dressed.

I tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave and grabbed two water bottles. Looking around the kitchen, it was strange to see the evidence of someone else using it. Dishes were in the drying rack. A few spices had been left out.

The only people I was used to having in my house on a consistent basis were Jeannie my housekeeper and Marco my chef. They worked in pretty predictable patterns. The dishwasher had always been run and was empty whenever I returned from an away game, and everything was usually put away. Jeannie had come Friday, but since Jo moved in yesterday, she’d had time to leave her mark.